Recalling My Dad
Five years ago tonight my Dad died. Being moody this afternoon I decided at 5:30 P.M. to get his green wheelbarrow (which I now own) along with a pitchfork and cross over to B.B. Clarke Beach. There was a pile of city mulch near the beach house for spreading around plants. There are seven newer type trees in the park that still require mulch and so I loaded up time and again and rounded the piles around each tree. Dad loved trees—told me to respect them as they can help keep one dry in a storm or can allow for climbing if a bear chases you. When telling this story over the years the sound effect of his growling at the bear portion never failed to bring a smile. The sun lowered, the wind turned chillier and the project came to a close. I crossed back home and felt this was the way he would wish to be remembered. The wheelbarrow was placed back in its spot awaiting another project of the type that brings comfort when I pick up the handles.